In The Dark, Dark House
by Dead Heavenly
Summary: Decades after the events of Breaking Dawn, the town of Forks has moved on. The Cullen house has sat abandoned in the woods for as long as anyone can remember, decaying in the woods, disappearing from time. A friend told Sara it would be a great place to take some pictures. But the house isn't as empty as it seems. Southern Gothic. Darksper. OC is the narrator. (Jasper/OC Pairing)
1. Chapter 1

**In The Dark, Dark House...**

**by Dead Heavenly**

**In a dark, dark wood there was a dark, dark house.****  
****And in the dark, dark house there was a dark, dark room.****  
****And in the dark, dark room there was a dark, dark chest.****  
****And in the dark, dark chest there was a dark, dark shelf.****  
****And on the dark, dark shelf there was a dark, dark box.****  
****And in the dark, dark box there was...**

For some reason, that stupid poem kept running through my head. Do you know the one? You probably heard it at a sleepover or something. In the dark,dark wood there was a dark,dark house and in the dark,dark house there was a dark,dark room, and so on, until the person gets to the end and shouts "A Ghost!" at the top of their lungs. Well, here I was in the dark,dark house.

If I took the time to be scared, I probably would be, but I was too distracted. I was trying to snap pictures of everything, barely bothering to adjust the camera settings because I just wanted to capture. I could filter and edit on my laptop later. Len had told me I would get some amazing shots here, and he was right. The stately house, abandoned in the middle of the woods, that was a picture right there. Paint peeling, windows boarded up or just empty frames, it still had dignity, like a gray old lady standing strong. The leaves that had blown inside and were making their way up the staircase, another great picture. A flower vase, dirty but otherwise intact, sitting perfectly straight on a window sill.

Snap, snap, snap.

I was losing my light to the sunset, it really was about to become a dark dark house. I wasn't worried about the house itself, but the path my car had followed to get here could only be referred to as a path if you were feeling really generous. I would need to leave soon, but I wanted to see what was upstairs...

Empty rooms. A bathroom with long dark stains trailing towards the drain of the tub. The outlines on the walls where pictures had hung. A staircase with steps missing like pages torn out of a book. I'd have to come back tomorrow with more film. I should go, now, but there was just one more room...

My fingers touched the doorknob and turned it, letting me step inside the last bedroom. It was not as bare as the others. A ratty blanket was thrown on the floor. It had been blue once but now...

Snap. Another picture.

A steamer trunk under the window, which was not boarded shut but had another blanket, the same faded not-blue, tacked over it. Snap. Picture.

In the corner of the room there was a chair. It had once been something expensive but now, like everything else here, it was little better than trash. It wasn't as dusty as everything else but someone had mended it with duct tape, all but covering the arms that looked like real leather. Next to the chair there was a stack of books. Maybe someone was staying here? The weather was warm right now but in the dead of winter this might be a cozy shelter.

Except Len had told me no one ever came here, not even horny kids. There wasn't really a homeless problem to speak of around here, so I couldn't image who these books could belong to. I ventured closer, setting down my camera on the seat of the chair to pick up the top book on the stack.

_The Great Gatsby. _

Well, at least the mystery hermit had good taste. I smiled and set the book back down where I had gotten it from and my hand reached for my camera...

And then I was against the wall. Something had knocked the wind out of me and pinned me there. I couldn't breathe. I couldn't move. What had just happened?

I tried to move again and found I could flex my hands but my wrists were kept firmly in place, both of them pressed in to the wall next to my head. I could move my feet and tried to kick rather uselessly while my torso was also held immobile.

"You shouldn't touch things that don't belong to you."

_**Oh god. **_

It was a man. A man was holding me against the wall and I couldn't get him to budge an inch. My foot made contact with something but he didn't even flinch. In the dim light, I could see long blond hair, light skin and eyes...his eyes were golden yellow, like an animal's. People don't have eyes like that. . I whimpered. That made him smile.

He brought his head close to mine and then buried his face in my neck, breathing deeply while I cried out again. My feet continued to lash out but I wasn't hurting him enough to make a difference. "You smell good enough to eat." He told me in a whisper, his breath sending ice right into my heart. "And I. Am. Starving."

His head dipped just enough for him to be able to dart his tongue out of his mouth and lick a line along my neck, right over where my pulse was hammering. I had to get out of here. I had to... I kicked again and the hand that had been pining my body moved down, fingers pressing against my shirt and the top of my jeans before it stopped to hold my knees in the same way the other hand gripped my wrist.

"Stop fighting. You're just making it worse for yourself."

He was going to kill me. Or rape me. Or rape and then kill me. Hopefully in that order. Maybe if I could pretend I was game, he would put down his guard enough for me to run or do some real damage to him. The trunk was too heavy to move but maybe if I hit him just right with one of those books. That's what a hero in a book would do. Any tough cop in a detective novel, because she wouldn't allow herself to be pushed around just because she was a woman. She would use her sexuality as another tool in her arsenal and get free, then run and call for help.

Yeah right. Then I'd sprout wings and fly my ass out of here.

"I can feel your fear." My captor was saying. "It's dripping off you like water. A person who just walks in to someone's house and touches their things shouldn't scare so easily."

I felt his teeth graze my skin and I started to cry. Not a little sniffle but a huge sobbing gasp. "Please." I begged. "I'm sorry I came in to your house. I didn't know anyone lived here. I'll go, and I won't tell anyone you're here. I promise. I won't say anything. Please, I don't want to die."

He paused in his ministrations. "You're going to. If it's not me, it will be something else."

Sob. Gasp. "I don't want to die today. You don't have to do this."

"Why not?"

My mind whirled. I needed something good. I didn't know his pathology, or whatever. I didn't know if he wanted to rape me or if he was going to kill me because I reminded him of his mother or maybe he was just crazy. But he hadn't killed me yet, so I could still get out of this. I tried desperately to remember every self defense class I had taken and every book I had read on surviving. I remembered from somewhere that killers depersonalized their victims. They didn't see them as people, just things, and that made the act of murder easier.

Fuck, I read that in _Silence of the Lambs._

But it was worth a shot.

"Please." I started again. "My name is Sara. I'm starting art school in the fall and I just wanted to take some pictures for my portfolio. I didn't know anyone lived here. I wouldn't have come here if I knew. This is completely my fault. I'm Sara."

"Sara." he repeated back to me. "Who told you to come here?"

"A friend." He squeezed at my wrists and I gasped. "He told me no one had lived here in forever and nobody ever came this way so I could get some great pictures of the house, and nature..." I trailed off.

I felt like I couldn't breathe.

His teeth were back on my neck. I felt them press in to my skin, my flesh starting to give way. I closed my eyes, not watching to watch myself die.

My brain did not immediately make sense of it when he let me go. One second his body was against mine, the next I was sitting on my ass on the floor, looking up at him. I couldn't quite believe it.

He had his eyes closed now. He was standing still as a statue, not even breathing. His lips barely moved when he spoke to me.

"Sara. You need to leave now."

I didn't need to be told twice. As soon as I could make my legs work, I ran.


	2. Chapter 2

**In The Dark, Dark House...**

**by Dead Heavenly**

**Author's Note: **

**Thank you for wanting to continue reading! Before we go any further, I wanted to clear something up. There are two ways to interpret the time line of this story; either it takes place in the distant future or Twilight takes place in what would be our distant past. I am writing it from the perspective that Dark, Dark House is somewhere in our future. That being said, do not expect flying cars or cell phone implants. I thought a great deal about it and while IDDH is a fic set in the future, it is not science fiction and I feel that too much emphasis on advancements in technology would detract from the actual story. My plan right now is to be sort of vague about most (but not all) things, so you can fill in for yourself how you think things will look when we get to Sara's time.**

**Lastly, thank you everyone who followed or reviewed! Appreciate it! **

**Now, on with the story! **

**chapter two**

Midnight found me in front of my bathroom mirror with a coffee mug half full of my Dad's good Baileys. I took another big gulp, made a face at the mug as if the stuff could help tasting kind of gross, and then went back to examining my reflection.

There were deep bruises, almost like ruts, on each of my wrists. My knees looked just as bad. You could see the outline of fingers pressed into my side above my hip. Three of my toes were swollen and although I could wiggle them, they were not happy about it. I looked down at them and remembered how kicking at him felt, like I was fighting with a brick wall. My neck was the worst. Long sleeves and jeans could cover up the rest of my body but the mark on my throat was like a brand. It looked nothing like a hickey, which I guess made me feel better. It looked...like a burn. My skin had been scalded by him. I rubbed desperately at it but it didn't go away. Seeing it made me feel unclean.

When the tub was full I turned away from the mirror to sink in to a bath, taking my coffee mug with me. I could hear my father snoring downstairs, passed out in front of the television set while some talk show host prattled on about pregnant teenagers. I hadn't told him what happened. He had enough to worry about (new job, new house, dating prospects, college fees for his ridiculously talented daughter, paying for his therapist, paying for my therapist, deciding whether or not he was ever going to talk to my sister again, and his car payment, just to name a few) without adding me winding up dead in the woods to the list. I also didn't know what he could say to make me feel better. He'd be pissed I did something sort of dangerous, then he'd act guilty for not keeping an eye on me, then he'd wind up hugging me and saying he was lucky he had a girl that could take care of herself. After that, he'd ask me to get him a beer. None of that would really help.

But shit, I wished my mom was here. I would tell her every single detail.

I sat there soaking and stewing until the mug was empty and I couldn't think about anything anymore. It was a relief. That night I dreamt of dark houses and golden eyes.

.

.

.

By the time I woke up the next morning, Dad was already gone. There was a note on my bedroom door (which he had not opened without knocking since I went through puberty, thank god for small favors) in his loopy handwriting asking me to pick up some nails from the hardware store so he could fix the back porch step when he got home. Since it gave me an excuse to go talk to Len, I went right away.

I was the only car in the parking lot of Newton's (Your Hometown Hardware Destination Since 1989!) besides those belonging to employees. A ditsy girl named Karin (who like, totally loved my hair) was standing by the register and I gave her a passing curt nod. I hadn't made a lot of friends around here yet, for reasons like that. I just wasn't terribly interested in being nice to anyone. I didn't have a connection to these people. I would only see them when I was home from school. Most of the kids my age would only be around for the summer too so really what was the point? Friends for three months? No thanks, I had a lot of reading to catch up on.

Len "Please don't call me Fig" Newton was an exception to this. It made my Dad feel better to see I had made a (one, singular) friend and he was actually a pretty nice guy. He didn't seem to have a ton of friends either, so we gravitated towards each other at the few parties I had been invited to before people caught on that I was kind of a bitch. He didn't hit on me, or any girls, so I felt safe trusting that he wouldn't use our friendship as a conduit to sex. Plus, he made me laugh. With a friendship checking off all those major boxes, did I really need anymore?

"Hey." I called out to him, spotting his tall frame stacking boxes against the end of an aisle.

"Sup Sara? Rocking the sister wife look I see."

"Shut up." I told him, tugging down the sleeves of my shirt so they covered my hands too. "So I went to check out that house in the woods."

"Really? Great spot, right? Did you get your Pulitzer shot?"

"Well I got something." I replied vaguely. "Who did you say used to live there again?"

"Nobody." he shrugged. "Not for a long time. I think the last people that really lived there were the Cullens, I mean, people call it the Cullen house, but they've been gone for forever."

"So it's abandoned, right?"

"Yeah. Why?" He looked at me. "Did you see somebody?"

"No." I wanted it to sound casual. I didn't want to tell Len about what happened either, but for different reasons. He might do something stupid like think he needed to protect me, or want to go give the guy a piece of his mind for scaring me. That didn't end well in any scenario I could think of. But he still might know more than he had told me about the house. "I was just wondering. It's weird that there's this beautiful house just sitting in the middle of nowhere."

"Weird, right? I think the Cullen family still owns it, technically, but there's none of them left around here. They were mad rich though, so maybe they just forgot about it. _Oh, Mitsy, I just remembered, didn't we have that house in Forks that belonged to your Aunt Coco? You know what Herc, I think you're right!" _

I laughed. He basked in the praise of his humor then started in on the town gossip, a bunch of names I didn't know doing scandalous things, but it was enough to push the mystery man to the back of my mind for an hour or two.

I returned home, bag of nails in hand, and went to check my messages. I had three from Lizzie and I remembered guiltily that she was going off the rails about some guy from her church camp and probably had wanted advice or birth control or something. I skimmed through the first two – _Kyle said he wants me to have dinner with his family before we go to the movie, is that weird? Should I wear a skirt? _- and sat down to read the last one she sent more carefully. It was from this morning, short, and to the point.

_Hi Sara! _

_My date went awesome. Dinner. Movie. Ice Cream. Park. But I'm not telling you anything else until I hear back from you! How is everything in Forks? Did you meet anybody there yet? Have you taken any cool pictures? _

_Gran and Grandpa say they love you and come visit soon. _

_I miss you!_

_Love Liz :) _

Now I felt worse for not answering her sooner. Stupid little hobbit and her stupid cute smiley face. I immediately started typing back .

_Hey Liz,_

_I miss you lots. Tell me all about your date. Say Hi to Gran and Grandpa._

I hesitated, then added,

_Dad says he loves you and misses you bunches. I hope you guys talk soon. _

_I got some great pictures. I'll send you the best ones._

_Luv U, Sara _

I sent the message off and expected one back any minute. She probably had it ready and waiting. I might as well take a look at my pictures so I could send her anything that looked cool before I really got in to editing the shots. I thought of the perfectly frame image of the old chair and stack of books and something in my stomach tightened.

My camera.

I left it at that house.


	3. Chapter 3

**In The Dark, Dark House...**

**by Dead Heavenly**

**Thank you to dulcesiita (first review!), OceanAmber, angel, Witch-Werewolf-luv-twi-loner, ashmarquez77, amberosia1, Xo Bella Italiana oX, sndoles, ShatterMyHeart710 and Ella-Starstruck for your support. Keep reading! - :) D.H. **

**chapter three**

There are moments in life you look back on, like staring at a photo, and think, "This is when I should have turned around. If I had just gone home (or not taken that drink, or called my Mom, etc) then everything would have been different."

I sincerely hoped I was around later to think that about right now.

I tried to convince myself this was a reasonable action to take. I needed my camera back. It had been expensive, it took great pictures and was the best one I owned. I would never be able to afford a new one by the time school started. Any picture I took with one of my back up cameras would never be as good as the one I took with my primary. Also, it had a name. I called it Vera. So I wanted it back.

Trying to be reasonable about it again, I had sixty bucks in my pocket and nervously held a bottle of Jim Beam. The money I would offer first, as a trade. The alcohol I would add on for incentive if I needed to. I tended to think that people who lived in old houses in the woods and had violent reactions to visitors might just like to have them a drink or two. Besides, my dad wouldn't miss it. I had pulled up to the house and gotten out of the car slowly, giving him enough time to notice that I was there, before going up to the front door and knocking. It felt so, so stupid, but I was trying to be as polite as possible.

I waited for a few minutes and then knocked again. When no one answered after the second time, I went inside the house. Maybe he wasn't here and I could just be quick about this. I eased my way up the stairs slowly, trying to be quiet, and crept down to the room at the end of the hall where his chair was. When I opened that door, I stood again for a minute, waiting, before going in to what I guess was his bedroom.

My camera was not where I had left it but was sitting on top of the trunk by the window. I went over and grabbed it, expecting at any moment to be grabbed myself. Turning, I saw the spot on the wall where I had been held. There was a clear outline of my body where I had been pressed to it. I rubbed my bruised wrists and shuddered. It was time to go.

I took a step forward and then heard something. Voices outside. Slowly, very carefully, I pulled aside the ragged blanket over the window just far enough so I could see who was out there. Two people. The first was a girl, she was maybe around five feet tall, had dark hair and despite the cold cloudy weather was wearing a tiny flowered dress. The notion that she was a little mouse popped in to my head and wouldn't leave. The mouse girl was speaking to a man, who could only be the one that had held me here, but this was my first chance to really look at him.

He had brushed his hair and put on clean, if old and worn, clothes. He was younger than I had expected, maybe even my age. What could have gone so wrong in such a short life that this was where and how he lived? There may have been an answer in the scars I could see faintly from a distance, on his arms and neck. Up close, they were probably pretty horrible.

But he was handsome. When he wasn't trying to kill me.

They were walking out of the more overgrown woods towards the back of the house. She was speaking and he looked annoyed. Both of them stopped abruptly maybe fifty feet from the house and turned their heads. Then the mouse lady took off running towards the closest window. I hit the floor, afraid of being seen, until I realized...

Quicker than she could have been, faster than was possible for her to be, the mouse girl was in the room and on top of me. She grabbed my hair and yanked my head back sharply, crushing the rest of me down until I heard the floor beneath me groan. I screamed but the way my neck was twisted back, almost no sound came out. Her hand twisted me hair again, turning my head the way she wanted it, and her other hand was at the small of my back. I had half a foot and probably 30 pounds on her but I had no hope of getting away. I shook me head back and forth but all that happened is a large chunk of my hair winding up balled in her fist.

I couldn't see her, but I saw him. He came flying in to the room, moving so fast he seemed to blur, and then the weight of the mouse girl was gone. I had time to take a grasping breath before I was kicked, I couldn't tell by who, and went sliding until my head smacked in to the wall on the other side of the room. There was a warm rush from where my scalp split and I tried to sit up, putting my back to the wall, so I could at least defend myself.

The man had the woman by the waist and tossed her out in to the hallway. He screamed something but all I heard was a roar, like a lion. Gray edges were taking over my vision. I saw him rush out of the room and then the gray became black. I passed out.

.

.

.

The first thing I was aware of was pain. There was pain everywhere, even in places I hadn't known existed. The second thing was the smell of bleach and the feel of it. It was slick on my skin, sliding like oil. I heard a faint thrumming like rain and began to feel drops of water hitting my skin through the pain. I blinked a few times and opened my eyes. I wasn't dead. That was a start.

The water was coming from a shower head, but I wasn't in the bathroom. The walls were stone and instead of an actual shower stall, there was just the hook up mounted on the wall and a bare cement floor with a drain that covered one corner of the room. The water was ice cold.

I also seemed to be in my underwear. Okay. Fear of a different sort began to sink in when I saw the man crouched on the floor a few feet from me, watching me intently. His eyes were steady on my body and I swore I could feel the weight of them. They were black as pitch. Hadn't they been different before? I moved my arms to cover more than my bra would and he frowned. He reached over me, turned the water off and then was back where he was before I could do any more than shiver.

"Bleach?" I asked. I don't know why that was the first thing that occurred to me to say, but I wanted to know.

"It helps with the smell of your blood."

"Oh." That made sense, sort of. "What happened to the mouse girl?"

He looked confused. His brow knit. "The other woman that was here." I supplied.

"Maria. Why did you call her a mouse girl?"

"She's just..." I shrugged and it sent the most awful pain down my spine. "a mouse."

He smiled at either my remark or my lack of articulation. It changed his entire face, even with the scars I could see now, and made him look like someone I would want to know. I really hoped he didn't plan on raping me.

"If she's a mouse than you're a goddamned albatross." The smile was gone and the frown was back. "I told you to go, Sara, and I do not recall inviting you back."

"I needed my camera." I said with another shiver. He handed me a blanket, the blue one from his room, and I wrapped myself in it.

"Camera." he repeated back to me. "Your camera? Are you that stupid?"

His tone was harsh and demanding. Between that and the way my body ached, it was too much. I started crying.

"Stop that." he growled at me.

"I'm sorry." I whimpered. "I just needed my camera. I brought you money." I had no idea what happened to the whiskey so I didn't mention it. "I didn't mean-"

"No, your kind never means to. They just **do**." He spat at me.

"I'm sorry." I said again.

"If you're really sorry, then stop crying. It won't do any of us any good."

His words were like slaps, and I wanted to scream at him that him being an asshole wouldn't make me stop crying any faster, but I didn't. I just kept sucking air in to my lungs and blinking until the tears stopped. He watched me do this. He was still looking at me like I made his mouth water.

I remembered how powerless I had been in his hands and the bruises I had to show for it. Now I wasn't even sure where I was in the house but he was between me and the entrance. "What are you going to do to me?"

"I haven't decided yet." He said with an edge to his voice. "You showed up here, despite what happened the last time, waltzing in to danger's arms. It's almost as if you want me to hurt you."

I shook my head furiously. He reached out and stopped me with a hand on my cheek. He was suddenly very close. "You've started bleeding again." He leaned closer and his mouth brushed over my ear as he turned my face slowly to the side and... licked at the back of my head. I felt a wave of emotions washed over me. Excitement. Need. Fear. His grip tightened momentarily and then he was gone. He didn't run off. I didn't see him leave.

He was just gone.

I just sat there, stunned. I didn't know how much time had passed before I started moving, only that he didn't come back. I found the door and confirmed that I was in the basement. I wasn't prepared for what I found upstairs.

The main room of the house where I had taken my photos was in shambled. The flower vase I had noticed before was now shattered into three large pieces that looked as if they had been used to cudgel someone. I had wanted to go upstairs, grab the stupid camera and maybe my clothes and then leave. But the stairs...

There were now two huge holes in the staircase. They were about the size of a person, and I tried not to think about that too hard. There was no way I was getting up them.

I sighed.

I could buy another camera.

Since my clothes were nowhere in immediate site, I just left. I had a tee shirt and some gym shorts in the back of my car and I pulled them on. No shoes but I could manage until I got to my house. I drove home at exactly the speed limit, not wanting to get stopped. I couldn't even begin to spin a story in my head to explain all of this. I could only thank whoever was listening that my Dad was still at work, and I had already run his errands, so when I got home I could just go straight to bed. Hey, I didn't even have to shower, right?

It didn't occur to me until I woke up that sleeping after a head injury was a bad idea. But I was still alive and there was only a little blood on my pillow. I probably just had a bad scrape. I made tea, used the bathroom, and went back to bed. I don't know what Dad thought but the next time I woke up it was well in to the next day, it looked like maybe mid afternoon. An entire day had passed since I knocked on the door of the Cullen house.

I stretched out in bed and tried to go over what had happened. The mouse girl, Maria, had attacked me. She and the man had both seemed to know I was there, even when they were all the way outside and my car had been on the other side of the house. She moved faster than anyone human could have.

The man had saved me from her, but he didn't seem happy about it. He had picked her up and thrown her. He was impossibly strong. So was she. I had the bruises to prove it. I had to entertain the possibility that maybe neither of them were human. It made more sense than drugs or any other explanation I could think of. So if not human, than what?

I felt oddly calm as I considered this. I guess I had always believed there were things in this world that the average person didn't realize were there, so it didn't seem so weird. But if not human, than what? The man kept warning me that I wasn't safe around him. Was I safe in town? If there were two of them, were there more? So many questions. Zero answers.

I needed more tea. Maybe some chocolate. Or waffles. I was starving. I got out of bed, stripping out of my raggedy car clothes and underwear and pulling on a robe. I went to the mirror above my dresser to see how bad the new bruises were going to be.

What I saw made my mouth drop open in shock. Not the damage done to my skin, that was pretty bad, but I was more interested in what else the mirror was reflecting. I turned to make sure I was actually seeing what I thought I was seeing.

Vera!

Sitting on the middle of my desk was my camera. It looked a little bit battered but it was real. I picked it up just to make sure. There was a piece of paper folded underneath it. It looked like a page torn out of a book. Written on it in a neat copperplate script were these words -

_**Well a day, what evil looks**_

_**I had from old and young**_

_**Instead of a cross, the Albatross**_

_**About my neck was hung **_

_Sara – now that you have this, I trust you will stay away._

My eyes fell to the signature at the bottom of the sheet. It said simply, _Jasper_.


	4. Chapter 4

**In The Dark, Dark House...**

**by Dead Heavenly**

**A/N: Thank you to DamonSalvatoresLover, Angeena, hannah, polarmayden and justsukiya for your follows/favorites/reviews. Hope everyone likes the new chapter! - D.H.**

**chapter four – **_**Jasper**_

**Sara**. She had said her name was **Sara**.

By the light of the moon hanging outside her window, I watched **Sara** as she slept. What exactly was I going to do about this?

Near as I could figure, this ended one of three ways.

No, this ended _one_ way. It might just take us a little while to get there, but I would kill her eventually.

Why not now? Wasn't that why I had come here? The shiny human toy in my hand was just an excuse.

Sara tried to roll on to her side and flinched in her sleep, giving a soft moan. Her skin was covered in marks from Maria and I. She was battered. So then, why hadn't she gone to a doctor, or a police officer, or sought help? Her victim-hood would undoubtedly grant her attention. Wasn't that what human girls craved?

But she hadn't. She had gone home. She hadn't even told her father anything had happened. Either time. The time when I chased her the hell off or the time when I disappeared on her. I thought back to it now, closing my eyes to enjoy the sweetness of the memory.

.

.

.

My conversation with Maria had gone nowhere. She wanted me to come back to the armies now that I had no other association. I wanted her to ride a fat cock to the blackest pits of hell. Neither of us was going to get what we wanted. She only made it worse with her ominous threats of what might happen to me now that I was unprotected. When that didn't work, God help her, she tried to sweet talk me.

Yes, **me**.

"You act like you would be my prisoner Jasper. I treated you well enough, didn't I?"

"You murdered me. That's a strange definition of well enough, even by my standards."

She laughed and it sounded like fingernails tapping on a window pane. "Murdered. So dramatic."

"You had one of your harpies suck the blood from my body and let me be tortured for days, just because I looked good in a uniform."

Again, the laugh. It made me want to snap her neck, but that would probably only make her laugh more. "I saw your potential. I couldn't leave you to die in an ugly way, howling in pain from a bullet or a bay-yon-et." She tripped over the last word with her accent, but she did that on purpose. She thought it would be endearing. "Or worse, to grow old and die alone,without dignity, left for the flies. Not you, my dear boy." She boldly touched my cheek. "Never you."

I stepped away from her, heading back towards the Cullen house. I wanted her to leave without having to do anything ….. violent, if possible. She actually let me walk a few steps before she caught back up to me.

"Wasn't that how Amelia died?"

I clenched a fist. "Who?"

"Amelia, wasn't that her name? The girl who wrote you all the letters you carried."

I had a very strong vision of me ripping her smile from her face with my teeth. Snapping each finger and toe from her body and shoving them down her throat. Filling her every cavity with sand. Maybe then she would hold her tongue.

But I knew that she had others nearby. Not so close that they would save her, but they would undoubtedly come looking at least. Problems I didn't need right now. I already had the wolves to deal with.

"If you want to hurt me, pick a girl whose name I at least remember."

"Alright." She said blithely, "Alice."

I growled in response. I guess this wasn't going to end without a fight after all.

"Is that who you carry all these burdens for? She is gone. How long has it been since you spoke to her? How long has she held you with a promise to return? Let it go, Jasper. Stop with this silly...'vegetarianism'. It robs you of your true being. You are like a lion that won't attack."

"I will attack, Maria, if you keep talking."

"I only-" she stopped speaking and turned towards the house. I was nearly blind with rage. I actually moved my arm in the beginning to a swing to take her arm off, back up or no back up. "Now I see. Let's end this silly argument. I could eat a horse."

She took off towards the house. I had to suck back on my anger so that I could actually see and hear what was going on around me before I understood why.

"Goddamn it all to hell." Sara. In the house. I chased after Maria.

She was on her by the time I got upstairs. Sara was trying to buck like a little broncho but Maria held her tightly. The human's head was snapped back at a sharp angle. Maria ducked in for the kill. I leapt and grabbed, ripping Maria from Sara. She snapped furiously at me and booted Sara in the stomach, sending her flying back. We crashed together on to the floor and she sank her teeth in to my arm, all but spitting venom at me.

I would go to my grave happy that she had given me such an excuse.

I picked her up and threw her out of the room, stomping after her. In the hallway, she had just gotten to her feet when I was on her again. "You bit me, you bitch!" She was like a paper airplane in my hands and I flung her down the stairs. Through the stairs, really. I jumped down on to the first floor while she struggled to get out of the hole and as soon as she popped up, I crushed her down again. She grabbed my arm and viciously sank her teeth in again and again.

Good for you, Maria. Stick with what's working for you.

She would come at me to bite, I would pick her up and toss her. This happened more times than I can say. We were vampires. We would not get worn out. I finally ended it by pining her arms behind her and grabbing her neck, moving it forward.

"All I have to do is pull, understand me woman?"

"I am allowing you to do this. Understand that, boy?" She countered.

"I don't give a shit what you are allowing. You'll be ashes all the same. Get the fuck out of my town, Maria, and take your offers with you."

I withdrew my arms and let her jump away from me. Instead of running, she turned to face me. "I still command a million souls, Jasper Whitlock. How many of them want your head?"

"Threatening me again?"

"Telling you that one day soon, you'll beg me for my protection. You should hope I take you up on whatever you can offer me."

She left, having to get the last word, the last dig, before she went. I was fucking exhausted now. I was ravenous. My house was in ruins.

And there was a human upstairs. A girl bleeding all over my floor.

The fist clenched. Opened. Clenched.

Today wasn't going to be the day. I wouldn't give Maria the satisfaction.

Not breathing, I first went down in to the basement and got some of the bleach. Then upstairs to retrieve her and inspect her wounds. I covered her body in the bleach first. Stripped her clothes off. I would burn them later. The overbearing smells of the chemical tampered down the odor of blood enough that I could pick her up and move her to the basement and the shower. I let the water run over her while I looked at her wounds. More bruises, blood so close to the surface, but only one real laceration on the back of her head. I tilted her back so the shower would clean it out.

I noted that she had a burn on her arm, not caused by vampire kind, and a tiny tattoo on her foot. The underthings she wore covered enough of her that her modesty wouldn't be compromised, if that was even a thing human girls worried about these days.

She had stirred while I was examining her. I could sense her fear. It was beginning to be so familiar to me. "Bleach?" she asked.

"It helps with the smell of your blood." I replied, not really paying attention. She smelled more than appetizing to me right now, in my half starved state. She smelled ripe. Like she would be succulent. She said something about a mouse girl. Confusion must have shown on my face because she explained herself.

I kept talking to her, anything to distract from the need to drink. When she said she had come back for her camera, I nearly belted her across the face. Didn't she realize the danger? She was Bella fucking incarnate, and once with that experience was enough for me.

**Bella**. She ranked just under Maria on the list of vampires whose ash I wanted on my mantle. Bella, who had cost me so much. Bella Swan and her non-survival instincts, her love sick swooning. How much better would my life be if not for one clumsy human?

Anger sank back in, an old friend sinking its fangs in to familiar spots. When she started crying, her sorrow and fear mixing with my irritation was too much. I threw words at her like weapons. That only made her worse and she was shaking, moving her head. Blood began to flow freely from the wound again.

And I was so _**hungry**_.

"You've started bleeding again."

I just wanted to smell it, that was all. Something I could hold on to when I choked down an animal later. Something to kill the black inside, or at least put it to sleep.

I came closer to her. I touched her. My lips met her skin as I moved closer to the wound. How long had it been since a woman had let me this near to her? …..I thought of Alice and the smell of her hair.

Lust. Need. I pushed this all at Sara, keeping her docile. She needed to hold still. It would only take a moment, just a moment, a second...

I stretched out my tongue. I knew my mouth would take over, clamp down, and then I would be lost. I tasted the tangy copper of her and wanted to finish. I needed to finish. Fuck my promises. I never kept them anyway. Why was I even pretending? I was never a good man. I wasn't even a man.

My fingers clamped down. Venom, warm with anticipation, dripped from the corner of my lips.

No!

No. Not today. This would not be the day I let go. If I could resist her, naked, bleeding, wet, practically a buffet to my senses, then I would never doubt myself again. My need would not own me.

So I ran.

Now I found myself here, in her perfectly human room. The force of her personality beat me in the face. Books everywhere. A glass unicorn. Photos of her with a younger girl, an older woman, older man. Her family. Prints of photographs I recognized from books. Old movie posters for titles I recognized, The Princess Bride. Labyrinth. There was a coffee mug that smelled like alcohol under her bed. I took a book I had enjoyed but didn't own and the dirty coffee mug. I set them on the window sill. She never stirred, not even when I slithered under her bed and back out.

I would end up killing her in the end. She was so fragile. Look how banged up she already was.

The more I thought about it, the more Maria seemed to be right. Why was I keeping my promise to Alice? Had she kept hers to me? How long was she going to keep me dangling, like a worm on a hook? Maybe if I let go, the memory of her wouldn't burn so much anymore.

I could crawl in to bed beside her. Put my hand over her mouth. If she woke up, she would be terrified, but that would only make it better. I would take her terror and twist it in to lust. Kiss her. Let her run her fingers across my face. Put my hands on her. I could make her want me too much to bear. I could even make her feel good. It didn't have to hurt. I would wait until I was inside her and her pupils were blown out in orgasm, my mouth on hers, and then bite. I could draw her life from her lips and then release her. No more tears for her, no more worry. Just peace.

Sara.


	5. Chapter 5

**In The Dark, Dark House...**

**by Dead Heavenly**

**(author notes at the end of the chap) **

**chapter five**

The little bit of poem he had left was from Rime of the Ancient Mariner. I'd never really sat down and read it, but I knew the basics. Ended badly for the Albatross. Didn't go so well for the guy that killed it either.

And the signature, Jasper. Who the hell seriously names their kid _Jasper_? No one in centuries.

Also, who in the hell leaves you poetry after, _repeatedly_, getting very homicidal about your presence?

I thought hard about this. I showered, I got dressed, I ate something and cleaned up, but my mind wasn't really doing any of these things. It was trying to figure out the situation. He had told me, twice now, not to come back. I'd ignored him once and a tiny Latin woman had almost broken my neck. But he had also saved me, not just from the mouse girl, but from himself, the first time, I think...

I rubbed my temples. All of this genuinely gave me a headache.

Finally, I reached some conclusions I thought were solid.

First, Jasper was legitimately dangerous. He was not some college kid who majored in philosophy, wore black nail polish and talked about death 'dangerous'. He didn't just act like he was a threat, he was. I wasn't sure what he had done, or to who, but there were bad things in his past. Shadows over his shoulder. Skeletons in his closet. So not just weird, not just crazy, but dangerous.

Second, and this was my most shaky conclusion, I didn't think Jasper was human. I had felt his strength. How cold he was. The strange eyes. He had picked up mouse girl and hurled her out of the room like you would throw a dirty sock towards the hamper. He and Maria both had moved far too fast to be bound by normal limitations. Then there was the way he had been when he was close to me, like he was fighting a terrible urge. He licked the blood from my head. It had been very-

_cold fingers my warm breath whispers on my skin trembling_

-sexual, but also not sexual in the least. I didn't think it would be so scary if it had just been about sex. Also, there was the matter of the bleach. I had really liked that shirt too.

So, not human. Maybe. Probably. I didn't really know?

Thirdly, and lastly, despite repeated warnings that were for my own good and would be followed by someone intelligent and logical, I wasn't going to leave him alone. I might not go over to his house with cookies, but I also couldn't simply ignore this. I felt stupidly like I had been asleep for my entire life, and now that something woke me up, I didn't just want to close my eyes again. I wanted to **know**. Wouldn't you? Wouldn't anyone?

Besides, I had it on good authority that I had a death wish.

So I began my research. The first thing I did was grab a notebook out of the drawer, flip it open to the first blank page (past some doodles and old math notes) and without a heading, began to write:

**Jasper **

**Maria **

**Cullen (name) **

**Cullen (house) **

**Forks, WA**

**Blood**

**Eyes (gold) **

**Strength**

**Speed**

This was where I started.

.

.

.

A week later I was back at my desk, reading my notes, coming to some new conclusions. One of them was that I really really should forget this whole photography thing and become a private detective. I could be a millionaire by thirty and retire to Tokyo.

I had started by asking Len what else he knew about the Cullen house, since I was totally only interested in it for the great pictures I could take there. Len, being a child of divorce and desperate for attention, was only too happy to spill every weird thing he'd ever heard from his granddad about the place. The late Mr. Newton had gone to school with the last people who really lived there. The Cullen family. Len didn't know any names but remembered that his granddad had said there was "the weird one, the princess, the big guy, the nutcase and that son of a bitch who stole my girlfriend."

I did the math and jotted it down in my little book, the last time the Cullen house has been officially occupied was probably about 2010.

Here is where it got weird.

I went to the town library and spoke with the nice lady with the huge hair who pointed me to the 'Local Interest' room. It was depressing. It was also very, very small. There were two bookcases of yearbooks, a bookcase of Washington travel guides and then a bunch of general stuff like 'Plants of the Pacific Northwest'. There were four books about the Quileute Indians. Bad photos of beauty pageants and apple pie festivals. Not just bad according to my professional eye, but BAD. A few interesting things, a book on the big blizzard of 2030 and two on the various massacres, brutal deaths and land stealing of the original 'settlers' of the area. I might actually read one of those.

Maybe.

But I went to the yearbooks and circled the shelves a few times. They didn't have anything but the high school, and they didn't have anything past 2021 which is when I guessed the school stopped doing them. The fact that they still made room for something that had been an outdated relic for the past 40-odd years made this town seem even sadder, but it such as hell came in handy.

2000, Cullen, nothing.

2001, Cullen, nothing.

2002, Cullen, nothing.

Forks High School 2003 (Go Spartans!) has three Cullens. Edward, Emmett and Alice, in two separate grades. None of them were pictured. Also not pictured were Hannah Crue, Ryan Mueggersted and Jasper and Rosalie Hale.

_**Coincidence. **_I told myself, even as my finger skittered across the page over his name. I felt a quick, sharp pain as I touched the edge of the book. Blood welled up from a paper cut and turned the names red.

"Fuck." I put the first book away and pulled the next year. I tried to do it with as little thought as possible, concentrating on sucking my finger tip so I didn't get bloody little smudges everywhere. I kept right on not thinking about it until I got to right classes and found the Cullens and the Hales with no pictures again, along with a few others again.

2005. Some of them were seniors that year. Rosalie and Jasper Hale, Emmett Cullen. No Pictures again. No senior pictures. Wasn't that a big deal? All of the other kids had sort of stupid photos of them in formal dress and big smiles. The Hales and Emmett just had blank gray boxes. I read and carefully copied the information underneath them.

**Emmett Cullen** _(not pictured)_

**Plans for the Future:** **Halo Tournament**

_So I can write anything I want here and they'll put it in the yearbook?_

I couldn't help but smile at that. I moved on to Rosalie next.

**Rosalie Hale** _(not pictured) _

**Plans for the Future: Medical School **

_Beauty is Eternity Gazing at Itself in a Mirror_

Still sucking on my finger, I moved on to the last one. The one I told myself was not important at all.

**Jasper Hale **_(not pictured) _

**Plans for the Future: College and Travel **

_Don't Believe that the Weather is Perfect the Day that You Die._

Carefully, I copied that too. For curiosity's sake, I checked on the other two Cullens, no pictures, and no pictures in their senior year either. Alice had also planned on college and travel and said something about the future being unknown. Edward had plans for college and marriage and there was some Shakespeare as his quote. Before I shut the book, I looked up Len's grandfather. Len had never told me they looked alike, but they did. Len was just skinnier, like a version that had been squished between two heavy objects. Michael Newton. He had planned to continue with the family business and advised his fellow graduates _Don't Hate the Player, Hate the Game_. I wondered if he and Emmett had been friends.

I put everything away and walked out of the library in a bit of a daze. I knew, rationally thinking, that even if it was an uncommon name, I was overreacting to seeing Jasper on that page. It was a family name, probably. The guy in the woods was Jasper Hale the V or VI and the guy in the yearbook was Jasper Hale the III or Jasper Junior. The family still owned the house as far as anyone knew. Maybe Jasper was just the alcoholic black sheep who got cut off and had to camp out in the creepy summer home.

See how much sense that makes?

The next day, I looked in to what property records I could find and determined that the Cullens really did still own the house. It was currently the burden of a Rose Marie Cullen. That name went in to the book. I was still trying to convince myself that I was making up shit in my head because I was bored. This was all going to have a logical explanation.

Except at night. I had started having bad dreams again, even though I had pills to take care of that. They were full of blood and strange eyes. I would tuck my whole body, even my feet and my head, under the covers and pray for a blank peaceful sleep, but sooner or later I would wake up panting and disorientated. Those were the times when I couldn't just tell myself that everything in Forks was normal. I would only let myself think about the worst things then. It used to be my mother. Now it was Jasper.

I was also pretty sure that the night he left me the note was not the only time he came in to my house. I couldn't find things; a book, a necklace, just odds and ends, but I knew they had been there before and now they were gone. I had needed to put a band aid on my paper cut and knew I had thrown it out in the trash can by my desk when I finally got tired of picking at it, but when I emptied the can I didn't see it.

I had told myself, a week ago, that I would pursue this. I had spent too many years having the important things hidden from me and who knew how different life would be if I had sought out the truth before? It was either keep looking for answers or let myself think I might be going crazy for good and duck my head back in to the sand. I didn't want to do that. I didn't want to be like Liz was. I also thought, only late at night when I was fresh from a nightmare, that it might not make any difference if I started ignoring the facts or not. Jasper might not go away. Whatever he carried with him could be here for good now. And I also still just wanted to know.

So tonight, there was something I was going to try. I closed the notebook and stuck it back in my desk. I checked the window (again) and went to my bed. Slowly, ritualistically almost, I drew back the covers and tucked myself in. My hand snaked out to turn the lamp off, then I curled up onto myself. Sleep, and the bad dreams, came quickly.

_A fog in the forest. I was running and something was running after me. If I stopped it would catch me. If I could just keep going I would clear the trees. I had to keep running. Even when it felt like my heart would burst. I had to fight the urge to look behind me, or I wouldn't be able to keep going. I was almost out in to a clearing when my feet tangled underneath me. My pursuer was on me in moments, whispering in my ear not to touch what didn't belong to me, and then I felt pain. Pain and then nothing. _

My eyes popped open. I didn't know how long I had been asleep but my plan was still fresh in my head. Instead of the usual routine of whimpering, crying out or trembling, I tried to stay as still and silent as possible. I forced my heart to stop hammering. I became aware of my entire body in my efforts to stay still. Keep my fingers from twitching. Stop my teeth from biting down on my lip. I counted back from 100 in my head.

At 52, I was sure that I was not alone. I knew my dad was down the hall, but someone else was here too. In my room. I could hear them moving around. Gently opening up my desk and my dresser and pawing around inside. Swooping around the bed and then sitting down on the edge of it.

Oh god. Right next to me. My toes were pressed up against the cold ice of something else all of the sudden. It took everything in me not to pull myself back. It also didn't do a damn bit of good.

"Sara." I heard his voice._ His voice_. Whispering to me. "Stop it." He scolded me.

Anger flared up. Thanks a fucking lot for breaking in to my house to discipline me. I swear I felt him tense up, like he knew that I was pissed off now. "Stop." He repeated. "I can feel how upset you are. Also, I can hear you blinking. So come out." He knocked on the blanket like it was door.

Gingerly, I folded back the covers and peeked out at him. I wanted very badly to punch him, but I didn't think it would do any good. "What are you doing here?" I whispered back. Yeah this was normal. We do this shit all the time.

"I knew you were up to something. I wanted to see what it was."

I didn't have a good answer for that so I just glared. He got up from the bed and went to sit in my desk chair. Once he was further away, I sat up more, still keeping the covers hugged close to my chest.

"I have to say," he was holding my notebook, tapping it on the desk. I hadn't even seen him get it out. "I don't know if this is mighty interesting of you, or mighty stupid. Like a house cat with blue prints."

Was he...? He was laughing at me. That fucker.

_Deadly fucker. The one who could snap your neck happily before you stopped gaping at him like a gold fish_, I reminded myself.

Myself didn't listen, and it didn't back down either. All of the fear I had felt in my dream was turning white hot with rage. Rage undercut with sudden intrigue, coming from nowhere. "Pardon me if I want to know who is sneaking around my room at night."

"I was returning your camera."

"The first time." I hissed.

He shrugged in an impossibly graceful boneless way. "You're good practice."

"Practice for what?"

"Repressing my nature."

I paused. It took effort but I wanted to think about this. The first thing I wanted to say was to ask him why he was talking to me. But that might stop him talking. So instead I asked, "What is your nature telling you to do with me?" _No subtext in there at all. _

"Kill you."

"Okay." I swallowed. "But you're not. You said I'm practice."

"I have tried to avoid humans since the last time. But I got bored. Soooo bored." He slumped.

"Why are you...repressing that?" I asked carefully.

"I promised her I wouldn't kill anymore." The question, and his answer, seemed to drive him away from apathy and towards sadness. "She said she would come back sooner, if I were good."

"Who?" I felt sorry for him now. I wanted to rub his back. I was going to crash from all these emotions running through me. "The mouse girl?"

He made a horrible face. "No. Not Maria. Alice."

_Alice Cullen! _

Alice, and it had to be the same Alice, had told Jasper not to kill anyone else. Good for her. He was trying to listen to her, but he fought with it. He tried to avoid...humans...altogether. This was too much to process right now. I could only hope to remember and then deal with it later. Keep him talking. Not killing. He said Alice would come back, so, she wasn't here...

"Where is Alice, Jasper?"

"With the Volturi."

**.**

**.**

**.**

**Author Notes: Thanks for your patience. I rewrote this chapter several times. It still is not my favorite, and I think it reads sort of like an info dump, but I wanted to just put it out there so I could move on to the rest of the story. So if you didn't really enjoy this one, please stick with the story. **

**As a mention, Dark Dark House does have a playlist. It is fairly depressing. I can send it to anyone who would like it (PM me). **

**Big hugs of appreciation to ashmarquez77, justsukiya, TheImpossiblePen, SaenchaClaus, Snavessej, golden-priestess and ReneeGoetz for your support! -D.H.**


	6. Chapter 6

**In The Dark, Dark House...**

**by Dead Heavenly**

**author notes: **

**thanks Leopardsky, ashmarquez77, peaches, Anabely, CourtneyPaige, Kohanita, MissPepperPot, Jordan Lyn 7, Nanita44445 and xEricax (hey, we live in the same time zone!) for your support for chapter five. I hope you like this one just as much. - D.H. **

**chapter six**

"What's a Volturi?"

"Death."

"I thought that was you." I made jokes when I was nervous. Yes, that was supposed to be a joke.

His eyebrow lifted. It was an expression of interest. "Is that your guess? Death? It's not on your little list." He opened the notebook, **my** notebook, and thumbed the pages until he found the one he wanted. "_Ghost_." He made a face. "Hardly. It looks like you figured that out though, it's marked out. Let's see..._Angel_. That's pretty fuckin funny actually. _Demon_. Now that, that's a lot closer. Then there's _Werewolf_. I should slit your throat for even thinking that, Sara. You've got _Alien_ here next. I have been told I act like one. _Zombie. Mutant Superbeing. Mad Scientist. Mad Scientist's Creature. Vampire._ I don't see 'Death' here anywhere."

Well I'd add Volturi. As soon as he gave me back my notes. "Are you keeping that? Like my necklace? Or the mug from under my bed?" I challenged him.

"No idea what you're talking about." He continued flipping through the book, chuckling occasionally.

"You've been taking my stuff, when you come in to my room. I know what to call that, **stalker**."

He turned to me and quicker than I could even imagine it and holding me by my hair. He gave me a violent shake before releasing me, and was sitting in the chair again before I could so much as wince. "What...the...hell?" I asked a little helplessly.

"Just reminding you who is in charge here. So let's talk more about this." He indicated my notebook. I guessed I wasn't going to get that back. "Who have you been talking to about me?"

I shrugged, trying to not show him that he was scaring me.

"The Volturi are the ones that will come to kill you if I do not." He said, answering my earlier question with a slightly better (if you could call that 'better') answer. "They don't like it when humans know our secret, and they don't really like me. I doubt they'd be merciful on either of us."

"But I thought you said Alice was with them. Wouldn't she be on your side?"

He snorted. It was a very unattractive habit. But it was better than trying to scalp me. I felt his contempt. Not sensed it. I felt it too. Jesus, I had a headache from it. Jasper was clearly doing something to influence the way I felt. I couldn't even trust my own emotions around him.

What sort of thing could do that?

We were both quiet for a few minutes, me wondering what sort of ability he had to manipulate feelings, him thinking about Alice probably. He finally said, "Alice and I have a complicated marriage."

"Oh." I lapsed back in to silence, hoping he would continue, but he didn't. It gave me time to think, and I came up with what I hoped was something good.

"Jasper?" I asked finally.

"Sara?" he countered back.

"I have an idea. Hear me out. It seems like you are isolated here, from your kind or your people, except for Maria, and you guys didn't really seem like friends. I have this thing where I can't mind my own business or keep my nose out of things and I'm sure I already know a lot of shit that could get me killed by these Volturies. I'd rather know what is going on around me than bury my head back in to the sand. I don't like being ignorant. You said I'm good practice for not killing people, because you promised Alice you wouldn't and that is clearly something very important to you." I was trying to sound as sincere as possible. He hadn't left yet, so at least I had his attention. "So why don't we try being..._friends_ maybe? Not like we do each others hair or go to the mall, but instead of you sneaking in to my room and taking my crap back to your lair, you could just talk to me, and instead of me doing weird Google searches and looking at old years books, you could just tell me what I want to know."

He seemed to be thinking it over. His hands were under his chin and he was moving his head back and forth. His lips were puffed out a little bit and he was staring not at me or the room, but off in to space. He didn't look at me when he answered either. "You do remember what I told you a minute ago about the **Volturi** killing us both if I gave you the information you want, yes?"

"Yes, but, I'm not going to tell anybody, seriously. And pardon me for being the stupid human just guessing on the fog here, but since when do you give a shit about rules? Not caring is something you do, right?" I fired the questions back at him.

He got up, too quickly for me to see, and I shrank back because I thought he would grab me again, but instead he just stormed around for a minute. His thinking must be too intense to be chair contained at the moment. I watched him pace until it made me dizzy and when he spun back to finally stand still and face me, I was ready to throw up. The sudden sensation of him back in my face was too much.

"Alright Sara, one condition." His voice was between the growl I had heard before and a pleading purr in my ear. "If they find out and if they come for us, I get to kill you before they get here. You will not try to run. You will not beg for your life. You will not do something foolish like suicide. That is my price. I want to know the taste again before I'm a pile of ash. Agreed?"

I nodded. Gulped. "Agreed."

Then he was sitting again. I was definitely dizzy. Room spinning dizzy. The first thing I jumped on was, "Can you feel what I'm feeling? Do you sense emotions or something?"

"One of my talents." A smile. I guess he would enjoy talking about himself.

"So you can control emotions. You are strong. You're fast. You're violent and have a few personality issues... no offense. You have no body heat whatsoever, and you seem to have a fetish about blood."

"Vampire." he shrugged this time.

"Really?" My eyebrows crinkled. "But, I saw you during the daytime."

"I don't burst in to flames or anything. I also don't turn in to a bat. I can't fly. I don't have fangs, and I don't sleep in a coffin."

I thought about all of that. Vampire. Vampires were real and there was one in my bedroom. Was he immortal? How old was he? How many others were there?

**What else **_**was **_** there? **

And how would I know, if they didn't have fangs?

Or...if they could walk around in the day time? "Are you _sure_ you're a vampire?" I asked.

"Want me to show you?" He asked, humorless.

"Um...no. Thank you though. Is that what the Cullens are, a family of vampires?"

He thought about it. "Vampires yes, a family no. We were a coven a long time ago. We lived here among humans and drank only animal blood. We tried to 'pass' as regular people. "

"Doesn't sound very fun." Spending every day pretending to be something you weren't.

"It was an existence. It made Alice happy and I would have forgiven a million miseries for her contentment."

"So what happened?" I asked, relaxing back a little.

"Long, sad, dull story."

"I want to hear it anyway."

He sighed. Did he need to breathe, or was the sighing purely for dramatic purposes? I didn't get to ask him that because then he started talking, and caught my rapt attention with his version of life with the Cullen family.

"_To the people of this town, we were a normal family. Our leader pretended to be the father, his mate was the mother, and then the rest of us were adopted children. A very apt metaphor, actually, but woefully inaccurate. The younger we all pretended to be, the longer we could stay in one town, so apart from the leader and his woman, we were regulated to the role of perpetual teenagers. Imagine having a sophomore year every decade or so. New town, new assholes, new bullies, new gossip, but the numbing sameness following you like a cloud. Now throw in a constant hunger and the fact that you're basically living inside a kitchen full of all your favorite foods, but they are forbidden to you. The illusion was always what was important. So no showing off, no retribution. Some 16 year old dick with acne could tease you about having fucking clown hair every day for a year and even though you could snap his neck with your pinky, you had to just take it. And do you realize the way you human young dress? It is ridiculous and Alice always wanted us to look so 'posh', whatever the hell that means, so I didn't own a pair of comfortable pants for about fifty years. It was every sort of hell you could imagine, and a few you couldn't. _

_I wanted to slaughter each and every human I saw every single day. If it weren't for Alice, I know I would have regressed to what I was before, a hopeless, mindless, disposable killing monster. We were an insular group. No one tried to talk to us, no one attempted to be our friends. It was just us and my fake siblings. This was how it was for years, the same, over and over. One of the Cullens was Edward. He was our leader's first creation, a petulant favorite son. He took a shine to a girl we went to school with, by which I mean he felt a barely controllable urge to rip her head off and drink from the geyser that erupted. Bella goddamned Swan. Some of us wanted to leave town before anything messy happened, others thought it would be better to just kill the girl so she wouldn't be a problem. Edward took none of those options. Instead, he claimed that he had fallen in love with her deeply. That's fabulous, we all said, so let's change her into a vampire. Then he started ranting about her soul and her delicacy and not wanting to damn her to our life. Real over dramatic horse shit, pretty much. He only agreed to it when the Volturi threatened to hand us our asses if it wasn't done, and then only after he had married her. The fact that she let him lay all these rules on things disgusted me, and now I would be expected to accept her as a sister. Gets worse though. Before he turned her, he gave her a baby. A hybrid baby. Almost unheard of. Mythological creatures. That's when the Volturi got really pissed at us. _

_Our coven refused to drink human blood. We lived close to our prey, mirroring their lives. We preached diplomacy and acceptance, even to our sworn enemies. Carlisle, the leader, had set himself up as an example of everything the Volturi wasn't. So when we were accused of creating a vampire child, they came like bats out of hell to end us. In full force. Sixteen trombones and a bloody parade in their wake. When it turned out we were innocent and the child was in fact a natural born creature, that just raked their nuts. They let us go, but we were on borrowed time. Every move was watched. Every word was whispered back to them. When Bella's daughter married a werewolf, that gave them the excuse they needed to come after us again. They said that they just wanted the girl, but really, they wanted to wipe us all out once and for all. It was a fight that, unfortunately, we would not win this time, no matter what we did. Because we needed remindin of this, they killed one of our coven. Sent us a box of ash with their apologies and a note about the laws on werewolves. I was ready to march straight in to their lands and kill them. I wanted the fight, even if it would have been the end of me. I was tired of looking over my shoulder. _

_But Alice, she knew...she knows things, I can't explain to you how, but she had visions of the future and she knew that if it came down to a fight none of us would live through it. So she offered herself to them. They had been after Alice and Edward to join them as soon as they found out about their 'gifts', you see. Alice said she would return with them and join their clan, so long as they left the rest of us alone. _

_The others knew what she had planned. She said her goodbyes to them and gave each of them little warnings or hints to keep them safe. She didn't tell me. She knew that I would never let her leave me, even if it meant my death. You have to see... .before Alice I was nothing. I was a formless rage. I was only ever anything because of her and I didn't know what would happen to me. She was my light. She left us while I was hunting and when I returned to our home I found a long letter and two big vampires to hold me the hell down when I tried to chase her." _

He stopped talking to touch his face, his eyes. I don't know what he was expecting but he pulled his hand back and looked surprised. He made these movements with his left hand because I was holding his right one. I didn't remember when I had reached across the distance between us to take it, but I didn't let go and he didn't ask me to. I almost told him to stop, that I didn't need to hear it, but maybe he needed to say it, so I let him go on.

"_Everything I feared came true. Alice had written in her note that she would come back to me as soon as she secured our safety by working within the Volturi to gain us more allies. I just had to wait. But I couldn't. I began drinking humans again. I didn't care that I knew how scared they were, or that they begged, because what they felt was nothing compared to the hole in me. I stopped thinking. I stopped speaking to my coven. I just killed and feasted. I left the bodies in Bella's room. The way I see it, it was her fault they were dead. Alice had to leave because of her daughter. The Volturi were so fascinated with us because she had to come stumbling in to our lives when no one asked her to. Edward had sheltered her far too long from the way things really were, and I wanted each stinking corpse to be a lesson to her. They eventually asked me to leave. I just stayed behind the next time they moved. I had quite a body count by the time I felt the need to travel. Maybe France would cheer me up, I thought. Maybe Japan. I'd never been. But it was the same everywhere. Everything had changed in my life and everything was still the goddamned same. I killed wherever I went. Soon that wasn't enough. I didn't just want to feed, I wanted to hurt them. I won't tell you all of what I did. I'll spare you the nightmares. Within a decade, none of the Cullens would have recognized me. Twenty years, I didn't even recognize myself. The longer Alice was gone, the worse I became. _

_The worse I became though, the better I got too. I learned to control my thirst so I could savor the feed and make the slaughter more elaborate. Once, I nearly killed human Bella because she was stupid enough to get a paper cut in a house full of vampires. Now, you've seen what I can do, how I can take little tastes without the hunger overwhelming me. I trained myself to do that by abducting women and bleeding them little by little. There was one named Circe, or she called herself Circe, I think her true name was Ashley or Mackenzie or something equally suburban. I picked her up in a goth club in Boston where we were surrounded by black lights and red velvet. I took her to a hotel room where she was drugged and trussed. When she awoke the next day, she was in a holding cell I had constructed in a house that was appropriately secluded. I kept her fed and drugged for almost a year. During the first month, I cut her twice and just let her bleed until I could endure the smell. I built it my endurance until I could take the blood that dripped from her without biting or sucking, then until I could put my mouth on the wounds. We are a venomous species, vampires, and when we are about to feed we secrete venom. Too much venom in a human changes them or kills them. I had to learn to swallow it or hold it in the back of my mouth. Sort of you probably learned to give a blow job, but undoubtedly a lot less fun. I learned to not drain a body completely at the scent of blood. In the end, I was able to kill Circe and leave her body sitting there, I didn't drain her even after she was dead. I was very proud. Now I could drink a little, stop, and save a snack for later if I wanted. I didn't need to bite. It wasn't easy, and I usually didn't both, but it was knowing that I could. It made me feel powerful. I was evolving. _

_My killings became more brutal after that. Now that I could let them bleed without needing their deaths right away, I became found of torture. Each cry of pain was Bella, regretting ruining everything I held dear. Each beg for mercy was Alice, apologizing for being gone so long. The painful deaths of these women was enough to keep my monsters at bay, for awhile at least. I no longer cared about being careful, I knew I was not covering my tracks as well as I should have. I didn't realize how bad I had become until the Volturi dispatched someone to speak to me. _

_Or, maybe, she knew I wouldn't listen to anyone but her. _

_I was in Barstow when she found me. I had a nice little shack and a steady diet of tourists straight from the airport. I remember that I had on my good blue vest and my cowboy boots with the silver snakes on em. I was covered in blood. Gore. I had been planning to burn the clothes, actually. I'd save the boots if I could but the rest was beyond salvage. I was standing in the bathroom trying to fish something out of the sink when I heard a knock at the door. No one knocked at my door. Curiosity sent me to answer it and when I did, there was Alice. _

_In an instant, all of the shame I should have felt for my actions over the years hit me like an anvil. If my heart had been able to beat it would have broken. I wish I did not recall what happened next, but it is burned in to my mind that way I fell at her feet and wrapped my arms around her waist, burying my head against her stomach and breathing in the sweet scent of home. I couldn't even speak. I could barely move. I held her there and let her hug me back, whispering to me my name and how much she had missed me, how much she loved me and how worried she was about me. _

_We made love and it was glorious. It wasn't even love making. We fucked each others brains out for hours. She didn't say anything about the blood or the smell, she just took care of her man. I was enough of an asshole to think she had finally come back to me, and nothing could have taken the world from me on that night. It was only after that she told me she could only stay for the night. She said I had drawn the attention of the Volturi, as well as a few others. I was no longer being discreet. She asked me to stop feeding from humans. She told me if I didn't, she wouldn't come back to me. Actually, she said that she didn't think there would be anyone to come back to. She asked me not to put her through the pain of my death, told me how she didn't want to walk to earth without me. All pretty words and I fell for all of them. I told her I would go back on the wagon and she left me again. I haven't seen her since." _

Once he stopped talking, I waited for a few minutes before speaking again. Werewolves. Vampires. There was so much rattling around in my brain but what I cared most about right now was the very frightening person who was trying to be my friend, at least before he killed me. He claimed he was serial killer. I didn't disbelieve it. I would scream in fear later. Everything could be processed later. Right then, I just couldn't imagine being with someone for a vampire lifespan and having your heart broken like that. The fact that she was still out there had to make it so much worse for him. Why didn't she come back to him? How could she do that to someone, even if he was sort of crazy?

"How long has it been?" My voice was quiet.

"Six years since then."

"I'm sorry." That was so awful.

"Maria was taunting me about Alice before we knew you were in the house. She doesn't think she is ever coming back. There are whispers about her and a vampire named Yanov in the Volturi guard."

"That's...stupid." I assured him. Yes, vampire, but boosting someone's ego in face of heartbreak was a universal thing, and I had done it many times. "Alice did all of this to keep you safe. Why would she cheat on you? Yanov schmanov."

"It's been forty one years since she joined the Volturi." he told me, sounding dead. "Maria is right. I am a fool."

"What's a few decades when you have eternity together?" I squeezed his hand and smiled. Should I offer him ice cream? That was the next step in the ego boost process.

He pulled his hand back from me, seeming to realize that I was still holding it. "I have to go, Sara. I need to kill something as soon as possible."

"Um...mind your diet?"

"Don't worry. I'll make sure my victim doesn't use tools or have adverbs in it's language skills." He was moving to the window, but at least slow enough that I could watch him walk. Was he doing it for my benefit, or had the story taking that much out of him?

I joined him at the window, showing him to it like I was showing him to the door. "Will I see you soon?"

"When I get bored, I guess." he told me honestly.

"Goodnight Jasper." I felt so horrible for him. I would forgive him for every single bruise and most of the cussing if he asked me to right now. His superfluous heart had been stomped on so much. It was stupid and insane and probably fatal, but I just wanted for him to be alright. I was sure I would cry once he left.

Although he was lost in his own world, in his own pain no doubt, he looked at me before he left, then glanced behind me at my old movie posters. Labyrinth. The Princess Bride. He had probably traced them during his stalkerish nighttime visits. A small smile showed itself at just the corner of his mouth when he looked back at me. "Good night Sara. Sleep Well. I'll most likely kill you in the morning."

I smiled back just a little bit, and then he was gone.

After he left and I had tucked myself back in, I remembered that Jasper could sort of sense emotions, and wondered if he hadn't said that because he knew how sad I felt. But honestly, he probably felt a million times worse, so I hoped not.

Maybe that was just his way of saying thank you for letting him talk?

Maybe he just really liked The Princess Bride. I mean, who didn't, living and undead alike?

Maybe I was just over thinking it.

Before I went to sleep, I took my little notebook, found the first blank page and scribbled out _**WEREWOLVES ARE REAL!**_ Then I turned off the light and closed my eyes.


End file.
